


Second Wind

by EzzyDean



Category: Free!
Genre: Gen, band au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:26:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzzyDean/pseuds/EzzyDean





	Second Wind

**Drummers hit it harder**

Nagisa was a tornado.  He blew into your life and you were never the same again.  But just like a tornado he could be gone before you ever really even knew he was there.  His smaller size was part of it.  But the fact that he read the situation and knew where to hit for maximum effect was most of it.  He was that way on and off stage and sometimes the others worried about him.  That boundless energy was sure to come to an end sometime.  But if never did.  At least not around them.  But when he was home alone he could feel the crash coming.  He hit life with everything he had and sometimes life hit back.

Like now when he was lying in bed, barely able to move.  His phone was vibrating off his bedside table but he couldn’t even be bothered to reach for it.  It was probably just Gou or Rei.  Wanting to know if he was skipping work  _again_ and if they needed to cover for him.  What he had done to deserve such friends he’d never know.  He didn’t deserve them, actually.  He crawled back under the covers and went to sleep as his phone thumped to the floor.  Forget it.  The world could win today.  He didn’t care right now.  He just wanted to curl up and pretend he didn’t exist.  So he did.  Until the pounding at his door woke him up.  His head throbbed and he felt like every muscle in his body was asleep.  Stumbling over his shoes and clothes he used the wall to support himself.

"Whaddaya wan?"  He was surprised to see everyone standing there.  Blinking blearily he nearly fell over, only saved from face-planting when Rin grabbed his shoulders and picked him up.

"Did you even eat you big idiot?"  Gou sauntered in behind her brother and led him down the hall to Nagisa’s room.  "Your place is still a sty."  He continued blinking in confusion as everyone filed in, Rei shutting the door behind him.  His brain was trying to process why they were here and it wasn’t until Rin dropped him on his bed and yanked the covers up that he managed to ask.

"Obviously because you haven’t answered your phone or gone to work in three days."  He sneered down at the younger guy.  "What the hell is with you?"

"Three days?"  Groggily crawling across the bed, and Rin’s lap, he reached below his bed for his phone.  It was dead.  Life really paid him back this time.

"Yeah.  Three days.  You really need to take care of yourself."  Rin sighed as Nagisa rubbed his face wearily.  "We are all here if you want company, you know."  Everyone piled into his tiny room and he felt the world’s grip on his emotions loosen a little.  Gou was sitting on his bed next to him arguing with Rin about the outfit she wanted to wear to their next concert.  Makoto and Haru were sitting on the floor, leaning against his bed and flipping through a music catalog they had found.  Rei had just returned from the kitchen bringing snacks for them all and found himself stuck between Rin and Gou as he tried to play mediator without spilling the chips everywhere.

He still didn’t know what he had done to deserve these friends but his determination to take the storm of his life and meet it head on was slowly returning.  Life could hit hard but he hit harder.

**Bassists do it deeper**

Everyone had layers.  It was cliche but true.  No one understood that more than Rin.  He spent his whole life, it seemed, trying to protect himself.  To cut himself off from others.  He had left his friends for a couple years to try out music schools.  But nothing there had done it for him the way that performing with his childhood friends had.  He had made a couple new friends, if he could really call them that.  But it wasn’t the same.  So he had slunk back to town, not expecting his friends to be waiting with open arms.  Which is why when Gou drug him into the club that night he had been shocked to see them standing there.  None of them had changed much on the surface.  But he saw deeper.  Haru was even more withdrawn than ever.  Makoto’s smile was cheerful but strained.  Nagisa looked like he was both wired and completely asleep.  There was a new guy standing there too and Gou introduced him with a smile.

"Rei’s gonna be the manager of the group if they ever get off their butts."  He couldn’t help the way his jaw had tightened at the mention of them being a group.  So they had went on without him.  Not surprising considering he had let for almost four years.  He had just rolled his eyes and headed to get a drink.  When he felt a hand on his shoulder he turned, expecting Makoto to be trying to patch things up.  Instead the slender fingers belonged to the new guy.

"Don’t worry.  I’m not here to take your place or anything.  Kou and Nagisa just keep dragging me out after work.  They’re pretty fun to be around."  They studied each other for a few moments before Nagisa’s laugh carried across the club and they looked up.  He was on a chair putting clips into Makoto’s hair while Gou snapped pictures with her phone.  "If you’re interested they still need a bass to really make their sound fly."  He snapped his attention back to the guy beside him.  Maybe this was his chance to get what he wanted back.  The chance to really feel the music in his body and soul.  To feel the way it peeled him back, layer by layer, and laid him out for the crowd.  "They also really suck at writing songs.  So you would be a huge help there, I’m sure."  Rei smiled at him before heading through the crowd.  That guy was more observant than he seemed.  But Rin’s passions ran even deeper than anyone ever imagined.

**Singers do it louder**

People always thought he was quiet.  Well he was quiet but that wasn’t really the point.  The point was everyone was always surprised by him.  The crowds were surprised by his voice. His tone.  His presence.  His friends were surprised by how quietly he moved and how fluid his motions were.  His family was surprised by how little they really knew about him.  On the surface he was quiet.  But in his own way he was screaming.

So when he showed up to practice with a black eye he wasn’t surprised that his friends rushed over to him and clung to him.  It wasn’t like him.  They said.  Fighting wasn’t in his nature.  When he showed up the next week, wincing when Nagisa hit him in the shoulder, he didn’t even mention anything.  They never heard him anyway.  No one ever did.  Except for when he sang.  Then he finally had their attention.  The softest syllable was heard even in the back of the room.  Changing into a fresh set of clothes after the latest show he was surprised when a quiet voice came from the doorway.  Spinning he saw Kou standing there.

"It’s fitting."  She nodded to his shoulder where he had pulled the bandage off just earlier tonight.  It was still a little red but the tattoo had healed perfectly.  "Most people don’t get the power behind them."  It was a killer whale.  Simple in design but nothing childish or cutesy.  It’s eyes had an interesting gleam to them when the light hit it just right.  Kou eyed his appearance, taking in the suspicious gaze and sweaty chest.  "You should totally go sleeveless at your next show.  You’ll really have everyone’s attention then."  She smiled at tossed him a towel.  "Don’t be too long or Nagisa will come charging after you."

There were times when he felt like no one would hear him no matter how loudly he yelled.  Then he realized that it didn’t matter.  Because once he was on that stage, the whole room listened.  He could whisper and through the microphone it could become a shout.  He made noise in his own way and when he stepped onto the stage the next week, sleeveless shirt showing off his muscular arms and the killer whale on his shoulder, the noise of the crowd faded away and his voice was the loudest thing in the room.

**Guitarists finger faster**

He knew that people loved watching him play.  His fingers could dance across the strings and the notes came through almost like magic.  It aggravated some.  It moved others.  But he couldn’t help but play the way he played.  Everything in his life was a blur until he picked up his guitar.  People, places, days.  It all was one big collage that he just stuck more and more paper onto.  Trying to smooth out the wrinkles.  But no matter how many days went by or how many layers he pasted on it was always the same.

"Watching you play is awesome, Haru."  Nagisa bounced up and down on the couch beside him.  They were waiting for the others to bring back food.  Haru had been sick the last few days and they had insisted on nursing him back to health as a group.  "But it’s kind of frustrating too."  He brought his eyes to his friend and tilted his head.  What was Nagisa getting at?  "You know.  Cause when your fingers move it’s like there’s a conversation going on between you and the strings and I want to understand it so badly but I can’t quite make out the words."  Haru looked at his fingers on the strings and frowned a little.

"He’s right you know."  Makoto leaned against the doorway as Gou peeked around his side.  The larger man held out his own hand and studied his fingers.  "It’s kind of like listening to someone foreign talking and you can pick up a few words but most of is it just this rush of sound."  He sat down and handed Haru and Nagisa some tea.  "Your fingers fly and it’s like you’re talking a whole different language."  Rin and Gou wandered in with bowls of soup, Rei right behind, and they all lounged around the living room.  Just content to be there with each other.  Nagisa slurped beside him and Rei scolded him for being so messy.  When Makoto tossed out a handful of napkins and everyone started laughing at his parental action Haru’s breath caught.  The world had slowed down for just a moment and everything was perfectly clear.  He looked down to where his fingers were wrapped around his soup bowl.

Maybe he didn’t need to play to see that clarity in the world.  Maybe next time that the world was spinning so fast he had to race his fingers to catch up he could look to his friends.  He made music with these people, both on stage and off, and his fingers itched to fly and make more.


End file.
